


All these memories lead me to you

by sometimeswebreakbeforeweshine (orphan_account)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 07:16:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3110882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sometimeswebreakbeforeweshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ashton sat there, the chair dented from continual usage, and looped her slender fingers with his larger ones, as he'd always done. The atmosphere was odd, but an odd he'd grown used to. Her silence never stopped hurting and never numbed. He sighed, bringing her warm soft fingers to his lips and he feels familiar tears well up in his eyes, and wracking through his body, like he'd been electrified. Each sob is a gust of pain; piercing and blunt, like someone had taken his heart and torn it to shreds then forced him to work through the hurt. Her eyes are closed and he hasn't seen those pools of color in so long. She is so quiet, which is so unlike her. Ashton fell in love with her words. She could paint a picture and light his world with treasures and fantasies that encapsulated her mind. He had fallen in love with the way she'd kiss his lips and giggle at his jokes, or rather, calm him down when he was hurt.<br/>(Or the one where Ashton's wife is in a coma, and he looks at their life  through her tattoos Please read till the end.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All these memories lead me to you

**Author's Note:**

> pls guys check this out

Ashton sat there, the chair dented from continual usage, and looped her slender fingers with his larger ones, as he'd always done. The atmosphere was odd, but an odd he'd grown used to. Her silence never stopped hurting and never numbed. He sighed, bringing her warm soft fingers to his lips and he feels familiar tears well up in his eyes, and wracking through his body, like he'd been electrified. Each sob is a gust of pain; piercing and blunt, like someone had taken his heart and torn it to shreds then forced him to work through the hurt. Her eyes are closed and he hasn't seen those pools of color in so long. She is so _quiet_ , which is so unlike her. Ashton fell in love with her words. She could paint a picture and light his world with treasures and fantasies that encapsulated her mind. He had fallen in love with the way she'd kiss his lips and giggle at his jokes, or rather, calm him down when he was hurt. When he was breaking and a mess, and he feels familiar tears well. All the little things that made him love her, her sweet giggle, the way her hands were small and his were so much bigger, the way she used to dance in the kitchen in the middle of the night. These are the things he desperately missed about her.

The peroxide white hospital walls stared back at him, horrible pungency making him feel so lost. He's done this every day for 5 months.

When they'd gotten the diagnosis, he wasn't expecting this. He didn't know what he was expecting but it wasn't this. Her lips are still pink and plump, inviting and alluring. Her cheeks are rosy and he runs a finger over one, sighing again. His chapped lips skim her cheek, fingers thumbing over her fingers.

Obsidian ink that has faded a bit, still caught his eye every time . _Queen Mab_ was inked into the skin of her wrist. The tattoo brought a smile to his tired face. To him, she was his Queen Mab; the inspiration of his dreams and the light of his eyes.  And the way she'd gotten the name had made it all the better. It is  filled with high school awkwardness and misplaced affections.  He pecked her wrist, before falling into the world of memory of how she'd gotten the nickname.

__

_Queen Mab_

_14 year old Ashron was such a dweeb. Big glasses and geeky smiles and an unattainable crush to top it all off._

_She was all he thought about. Her eyes, her lips. ...other features. He'd do anything to win her love. He was a loser, and she was a princess. Stunning eyes and irresistible laugh; Ashton was prey to her .  Ashton didn't stand a chance with her. Every guy wanted her and Ash was pretty low in popularity. And to be honest it stung a little to know how she sees him. All he was to her was a fucking tutor._

__

_It upset him to no end because she makes him blush and smile and it almost seems like in those sessions that she likes him too. Because she smiles and laughs and seems son_

_angelic yet human at the same time. And they joke around and laugh and then, then he doesn't get to see her again. And it really hurts more than it should._

__

_Today they are under the tree, oak scent filling his senses before her perfume washed over him like an angels aura . Her smile was enchanting, and it sent butterflies to his stomach and idiocy to his brain. He'd make a fool of himself just to see it. And he does. All the time._

_He almost stutters as he stared into those pools of hued grace._

_"H-hi Y/N ," he blushed darkly as his voice cracked. She sat down next to him, warm grin fading the world around them and leaving only his admiration for her. She sat beside him, leaving her head on his neck, and they fit so perfectly like this that Ashton wants to pause time and just be like this forever. He bashfully interlocked their hands, which he felt to be softer than anything he'd ever felt. After they had discussed the characters and the next test, she began to fool around. " Which character in Romeo and juliet am I like, do you think? ” she burst, exuberant eyes demand an answer that Ashton would give. He's weak at the knees for her; he's weak in his will and weak in his love. He thought about her question, and wanted to say the absolute right thing because he loves the feeling of her hands playing with his own, is now addicted the comfort of her head leaning on his neck, and he didn't  want it to end_

_"Queen Mab. " She smiled. It was a teasing and curious smile that reminded him how lucky he was that she was here with him. To be honest, he's lucky she stopped talking about school because frankly all he can focus on how she is very very soft and sweet and he mustn't ever hurt her._

_"Why? She's a fairy. She's not even real. " He speaks, eyes not meeting hers. He shook his head._

_"Sometimes you don't seem real to me. You're pretty much a dream to me. You don't really seem real a lot of the time. You're gorgeous and passionate about the world around you. You kind of make me crazy. But you're amazing. And Queen Mab is that. She's that crazy feeling right before you fall. And for me, thats you."_

_She is quiet for a while, and then climbs up and off of him and he panics. He isn't as good with his words as she is, and he wants her to stay with him._

_"Y/N I didn't mean it like - " She kisses him. It is as if there had been a shutter over his eyes and now it's been ripped off. His hands fly to her waist and she's laying on top of him. It's perfect. It is everything he's dreamed of and more. Her warm tepid body laying on top of him. She's the best kisser in the world, he'd decided, even though he had limited experience. It's beautiful._

__

_He never stopped calling her that, since he knew how she'd react._

She is so beautiful. Ashton loves her so, so much.  Ashton can't stop seeing the world that they've created, the life that they've had. The words sketched and frivolously done on her arms remind him of the life that. And on her collarbone, the words _I love you_ are etched into her skin.

_I love you_

_Words are unnecessary; they understand each other and they understand that it is wanted. But Ashton asks anyway, because she is everything to him._

_"Do you wanna stop?"  She said no, and he's quite glad._

_His lips are on her collarbone, her head tossed back in ecstasy.  He grinned against her skin,  kissing her neck. He's actually very nervous  right now because he’s been wanting this forever._

_Their first time; pivotal and insane. She's so gorgeous, more perfect than he'd ever imagined. The thing is that she wants him and that is so unbelievable to him. The soft light from the streetlights invaded the space,  the light washed over get and curled around around her hair, lighting a smirk that laid on her soft pink lips. He tried not to shudder as he runs her smooth hands down his chest and fund their way to his groin. Her slender fingers wrap around his length, earning soft moans slipping from his swollen lips. She has him pressed against the old chipped door of her apartment    (her apartment. He's feels so adult that she had one,  although he wishes it was with him). His hands are on her waist and she's kissing down the column of his neck.  There's no candles or Billie Holiday records, no fireplace and no romantics. He didn't really think there needed to be any of those things. Because she is enough. And in that moment, so is he. They're enough to cause this aura of comfort and something he can't describe but maybe already knows what it is. It's kind of stupid that they waited this long because neither of them were particularly religious or even careful. And No, this won't be just fucking._

__

_Fuck all. He doesn't need candles or records or even a fireplace. She's all the magic he needs. Ash gasped into her neck as she slid her hand into his tight jeans, fingers wrapped around his length. She's smiling genuinely down at him,, reveling in his desperate whines that breath hot against her skin. He would be offended, she she, with her warm fingers still wrapped around his length, draws him in for a kiss. And she isn't perfect, sloppy and wetter than it should.  But it's her. It's the best part of his life._

__

_And no. He won't let this continue against a door. He carries her to her bed, smiling softly at the pink flowery bedspread. She saw this and laughed._

__

_He feels such fondness for her. And she takes over from her, pressing single finger on his chest and pushing him into the mattress. She climbs on top of him. He ripped his shirt off, eyes hungrily washing over her. She looked him over,  and carefully undid her zipper.  Ashton did not like suspense._

_He doesn't like suspense._

_He got them off faster than one could imagine. But she,  she had apparently read smut before or some shit, because she climbed on top of him, warm sultry grin on her face.  She slowly grinned, light from streetlights washing in from her window and on her face, slowly grinding against his brief-clad groin. He let out a sharp gasp at her actions. Chest grazing his own, she picked up her speed, but he felt so freaking **desperate** because she is still wearing her fucking jeans._

_"Can you take that off?" He says breathily.  She shakes her head, and he nearly cries out in frustration when she awakes her head no. He puffs out a breath, pouting quite impressively._

_"Can you at least take your shirt off then?" And he feels awful when the smirk rolls off her lips. She swallows nervously, and before he has the chance to asks what's wrong, she slips off her tee. She rises above him, sitting on his lap, as he is laid down on her bed.  And he thinks he's going to die because he has a full albeit dim view of her chest and it is beautiful; just like the rest of her. He propped himself up on his elbows, bubblegum pink lips in an 'o' He can't really think of what to say, and and he doesn't have too because she cuts off his awed thoughts._

_"I'm sorry, I know they're not too big," She goes on but he doesn't want to hear. He actually is an awe as she rambles out her insecurity and it's ridiculous. It's ridiculous and stupid because she is every shade of spectacular._

_He still can't really think of words to say so he just leans and cuts her off with a kiss. Soft and delicate, sweet and nice. Their positions are a bit uncomfortable, but he  his hand at her neck as he kissed her and put on her neck and kisses her warmly._

_Hazel eyes burning into her own, he whispers like he knows no greater truth._

_“You are absolutely perfect,” he paused, smiling at her, the woman he’d fallen for, “I would never let anyone say a bad word about you. What makes you think you’re allowed?”_

_And then, then she smiles at him. Earnest, no half-smile I’m-trying-to-be-pretty smiles, but an actual smile that lights her face like new york from space. And she kisses him again, and slides off her jeans. Her pink underwear earns a fat smirk from his pouty lips and she playfully whacked his arm gently. And once she is laying on top of him, chest to chest, lips nearly skimming. And it’s soft and sweet as she nips at the skin of his chest.  He gasps as she slid him into her slick paradise. He felt like he was going to see stars. It was his first time; he wasn’t going to last very long, that he knew. She actually seemed to be okay, but he felt the need to check on her, his affection for her swelling infinitely._

_“Does it hurt, baby?” he whispered, eyes washing over her, brow furrowed in concern._

_“I’m okay, I swear.” she says, features clenched as to try and swallow the intense feeling._

_She gave him permission, and he slowly rocked his hips against hers, eyes not losing hers while he did so. It was hard, very hard to keep constraint, and he felt insane, pleasure coming down over him like summer rain. He can’t really describe the feeling that it gives, her warm walls wrapped around him and her fingers playing with his hair._

_“I- I,” he tries to find the words to say, the word for that feeling that has always been there. That will always be there. And he's so intensely aware that it's **her** , the first girl he'd kissed, the first date, first girlfriend and his best friend._

_“Cum for me, baby,” she croons in his ear, in spurts his words escape his lips, as his peak rips through his body._

_“I love you.” Spoken shuddery and brashly, but she looks him in the eye, her own crazed ones wild. She could tell he had meant it._

_“I love you too.”_

_And he knew she meant it. And they just laid there, not moving as her warm body laid on top of his, his fingers running up and down her back, muscular arms fastened around her waist._

_She got the tattoo the next day._

_He was honored._

****  
  


_Marry me_ is scribbled by the shell of her ear. He always considered it their secret tattoo. It's beautiful,  really. Absolutely perfect. His handwriting that he sketched onto a paper and mimicked by her favorite tattoo artist.

The heaves of her chest are light and he can barely tell she's alive. It hurts to look at her. She's so still and so vulnerable.  All Ashton  wants to do is wake her up and that's all he's been trying to do. But when a he looks at those frivolous drawings on her skin. He needs her back. He needs her to wake up. He needs her smile and he needs her love. He can't do this anymore.  

He's broken. He's broken like his heart was delicate glass and someone had dug their heel into it. She promised she wouldn't ever break his heart.

And the hardest part is that there is no one to blame.

All he can remember is how he'd said those words that laid at her skin.

_Moonlight washes over her face like waves on a beach; serene and picturesque.  His parents 20th anniversary part was on a beach in his hometown. She never really knew that much about it, being a small town USA girl herself. She had only moved to his school at 14. She still didn't know too much about the place that they lived._

_But Ashton loved this town and all its relics. But all the days activities have faded away and honestly, it's better this way. Because her face is soft and smooth and her head is on his shoulder, his arm around her waist as they sway to some song they've heard before but can't remember the name. It reminds him of their first kiss almost, except the sunlight in now the moon and love is what used to be affection. He’s not gawky and awkward. Tall and strong, sure of his actions and sure of his endearments._

_He loves her. He loves her so much. It's in everything he does. It's all he can feel sometimes. She is mind bogglingly amazing. He loves her._

_And she loves him right back._

_She loves him and it makes no sense to him  that she does. But she does._

_Right now she's so close that she can feel her heartbeat, and he pulls her closer._

_It's magical, their shadows dancing along the sand and the world and other couples at the beach faded out. He dimly thinks while staring at her eyes with the same whimsy that he'll never grow out of. He vaguely acknowledges that 20 years from now he'd like to dance as well._

_He kisses the shell of her ear, earning a sharp intake of air.  She looked at him curiously,  smiling as as he twirled her to the beat._

_"Marry me?"_

_"I expect a ring tomorrow, Mr. Irwin." She smiled and he is done for._

_"Yes ma'am, Mrs.Irwin."_

No one is here and even if they were he doubts he would care. He's sobbing in her lap. Sobbing. Because his fucking wife is in a coma and has cancer and the universe or god or whoever the hell was in charge of this must hate him.  

She is the best person person he knows. She doesn't deserve any of this.

__

_Cancer_

_Stage 3 cancer in her brain._

_His wife. His wife has got a high probability of death._

_Of death._

_No._

_Fuck no._

_She's his wife.  His life is nothing without her._

_The doctors office is quiet in the worst way,  suffocatingly horrible._

_"But she's so young?" Ashton breathed, hand clutching hers like it's the last string of his universe. It's true. Married for 6 months and this._

_"These things happen Mr. Irwin.  It's probably a genetic cause."_

_From there she speaks about treatment options to possible estimations of her time left (2 years at least)._

_Fuck._

_He's going to be sick._

_She can't go. She can't be gone. His wife, his fucking wife can not die. No. No. This cannot be happening. Not now. They had just begun their lives. They'd only been married for 6 months and now this? He held her hand and she looked sickly, pale and sickly. Like the realization that this is real. The doctor can tell they aren't really paying attention her words and halts them._

_“I'll give you two a moment." And with that she flings herself into his grasp._

_She doesn't really say anything. Just cry and it's all he can do not to cry with her. He just holds her and says that it'll be okay. And he just hopes to god that it will._

_~_

_It is the morning of her operation. They said that if it goes well,  she might have a chance to be cured.  He's been hoping for the best._

_But her mother's death laid heavy on her bed. Her mother had gone in on a routine op, and the anesthetic had sent her into a coma which caused brain damage that caused death._

_Ashton is terrified of it. But so is she. And he needs to be strong._

_She is draped in a starch white hospital gown, eyes worried and serious._

_"Hey darlin'," he smiled at her. She doesn't smile back. He traces her cheek with the side of his finger._

_"Hey, you'll be okay," he said, and she looked at him eyes trembling with fear._

_"But what if I'm not Ashton? What if-"_

_"Darling, we'll be okay. Look at me," and she does, meeting his emerald eyes burning into hers,  "We are going to buy a house on the beach," He was talking for real, tearing up a little as he held her hand, " We'll have a daughter named Ella, okay? I know how much you love the name Ella." He's crying now, but still smiling, really smiling. " A son named Dominick. You'll be the best mom. Okay? The best.  You hear me? The best. " She nodded at him, tears dripping down her face. He leaned down to kiss her one more time before they carted her away._

_"You'll be okay, doll."_

_She almost manages to smile back._

_~_

_"YOU PROMISED THIS WOULDN'T HAPPEN TO US!" Michael and Calum are holding him back as Ashton screamed at the doctor.  She'd fallen in a coma sure to a bad reaction to the anesthetic.  They hadn't been successful in the operation, but had managed to set her into a coma on accident._

__

_He isn’t a fighter, so they don’t have to hold him back much. But he’s crying crying so hard he can’t see. He fell back into a chair and his head fell in  his lap, hiding from his reality. Because his fucking wife, the woman he loves more than anything in the entire world, the woman he wants to have kids with is lying unconsciousness, being eaten alive by tumors that she was at the mercy of. And he, the one who was supposed to be her prince charming, couldn’t save her._

_There was no one to blame but God._   
_And Ashton hated him._

 

“Mr. Irwin?” his thoughts are interrupted by the croaking of Dr. Hartman. Her breath always smells like cigarettes, which kind of ironic, considering their situation. Ashton has lost the appetite for humor, though. Really

His wife was the light of his days. He can’t laugh without her.

"We have a new development in your wife's condition."

Shit.

She will die soon. He knows this. He knows it like it courses through his veins.  He knows it like it's buried in his heart send it will eat him alive.

Any day now, he knew. Her family knew. The fans know. The world knows.

He's told the doctors not to update him much, because most of the time their words are always saying that  her tumors have grown substantially. He hates hearing about it. But he has to.

He lifts his head from her lap, wiping his tears away from his eyes.

“What's happened?" He says, voice creaky and sad. He runs a hand through his mussed hair. These days he doesn't even looks sad or angry, although he surely is. He just looks tired.

There is a happy looking intern next to Dr. Hartman,  and she is smiling hugely.

It's annoying and kind of stupid. She's young. Young and stupid. Stupidly filled with potential that he knows his wife will never have.

"This is Lucy, my intern. But that's irrelevant. " Ashton nodded,  and gave her a fake smile.

" Have you heard of a phenomenon known as Spontaneous Remission, Mr. Irwin?"

 

Ashton does not like medical terms. They have never brought him good in his life. He shakes his head no, and for the first time since this whole mess began, Dr. Hartman smiled at him.

"It is a very rare phenomenon,  one in a million sort of thing.  It means, and bear in mind that we don't know why this occurs, that sometimes people with high levels of cancer-"

 

"Please just tell me how much longer she has" left," he sucks in a harsh breath. He can't believe he has just said that. But he has to.

"We have been observing your wife’s condition for the last week,” Ash nodded, because he’d been gone for a week. The boys had forced him back on the road again, for an interview. Ashton thinks that they’re afraid he’s going to leave the band. He doesn’t really know if he will. Nothing really feels worth the effort.     

“It seems as though she has gone into complete remission. We are clueless as to why, but all the tumor pressing against her nerve that has been making her unconscious has vanished. This is what is known as spontaneous regression.”

One cannot hopes to describe the feeling Ashton feels when he hears those words , those words that ring with hope and pride and joy and everything on the spectrum.  One can't begin to know the adrenaline and the love that coursed through him in stride.

His brain doesn’t understand. He can’t comprehend it. She’ll live. She’ll wake up. He will hear her laugh again. He thought it was a lie.  His mouth fell open and the tears slide down his face, and suddenly he's smiling at hard he might implode.

"She should awake in about half an hour. " he gets a bit ahead of himself, and hugs Dr. Hartman herself. The world, for a moment, has no flaws, for a world that she lived can have no flaws. 30 minutes to forever. 30 minutes  he’ll have to wait to see her. 30. He thought he’d see her smile next at the gates of heaven.

30 minutes.

~

He thinks his heart is going to jump out of his chest when he sees those eyes flutter so casually, and he sees those pools of hued color looking at him and he swears he’s going to combust. He’s crying so hard right now, his fingers looped with her own.

“Ash? What’s happening?” Where am I?” she says in her sleepy morning voice. He only feels the sobs of joy wrack his chest again, because he’s hissed it. He’s missed her voice for 5 months. He foreces himself to look up, to see her face. He gasps. She’s beautiful, beautiful and alive and she’s going to stay that way. He can’t speak, so he just puts his head in her neck, and cries there. Her scent lingered on him, and he shuddered at her bony-from-illness arms wrap around his chest and he feels himself collapse in an enigma of himself.

“How long do I have?”

Fuck. She thought was going to die. She’d gone in for a operation and when she wakes up her husband is crying his eyes out. Of course she thought that.

Ashton emphatically shook his head, sandy overgrown hair brushing his tired face.

But when he looks into her eyes, he can see the world in her eyes. He can see the dorky glasses and the oak tree, he can see the chipped white paint of her first apartment, he can see the moon and light of their proposal, and he can see the starch white hospital walls of the night he’d lost her. He can see the future in those jewels of beauty. He can see that daughter with sandy brown  hair like his and that son with bright eyes like hers. He can see the crackerbox house on the shore. He can see it all.

**  
**_“We have forever.”_


End file.
